Page 66 of Glitched Fates & Stolen Mates

The hood went over Wren’s head, and his body went rigid with panic.

I must have made some sort of sound because Flynn touched my shoulder. “You all right, mate?”

“They’ll take him to room 410,” Priya murmured quietly. “For interrogation.”

She didn’t mention what else room 410 was sometimes used for. Storage. For bodies.

On screen, Seb and Rory were already marching Wren towards the staircase, his movements jerky with fear beneath the hood.

“I’ll go check the ground floor doors,” Theo said. “See if there’s forced entry.”

“Felix, let’s go up with them,” said Priya. “Flynn, you stay here and monitor the camera feeds.”

I let Priya guide me to the stairs, followed her up the spiralling steps. As we reached the fourth-floor landing, I heard it—Wren’s voice, high and terrified beneath the muffled fabric.

Screaming.

“Wren!” I shouted.

Seb turned towards me, his dark eyes flashing with irritation. The key was already in the lock of room 410, his glare making it clear I’d overstepped.

“Felix?!” came Wren’s muffled cry from beneath the hood.

Seb pushed open the door and we all filed into the room. The space had once been a modest hotel bedroom, but Seb had stripped out anything resembling comfort years ago. Bare concrete walls replaced wallpaper, and the only window had been bricked over, leaving harsh fluorescent lighting as the sole illumination. A single wooden chair sat bolted to the floor in the centre, surrounded by restraints hanging from wall-mounted brackets. A metal table held various implements I tried not to look at too closely.

Rory shoved Wren onto the chair. Wren’s breathing came fast and panicked beneath the black fabric.

“Hands behind your back,” Rory commanded, already producing zip ties from his jacket. The plastic tightened with sharp clicks as he secured Wren’s wrists to the chair.

Seb stepped forward and pulled away the hood.

Wren’s long golden waves, usually styled to perfection, now stuck up in wild tufts, his face flushed and eyes wide with terror. He blinked rapidly in the harsh light, pupils darting between our faces.

“What the hell is wrong with you people?” he shouted, straining against the restraints. “Have you lost your bloody minds?”

Seb’s expression remained impassive. “Now then. Please explain your presence in our establishment.”

Wren stared at him. “Your establishment? This is kidnapping! This is assault! I’m calling the police!”

I shook my head frantically, trying to catch Wren’s attention. That was absolutely the wrong thing to say to Seb. The vampire’s face darkened with something approaching amusement.

“Wren, please tell us why you’re here and how you got in,” Priya said, gentling her voice to activate “good cop” mode.

Wren’s gaze swung wildly between us. “Jesus Christ! I was only doing Rory a favour by returning his damned ferret!”

Silence dropped over the room like a stone into still water.

“What?” Rory stepped closer, his voice sharp. “What do you mean? Where’s Freddy?”

Wren’s expression shifted from fury to exasperation. “An hour ago, that little grey monster came scampering into Fat Cat’s all by himself. I was wondering why nobody from Killigrew Street had come for coffee today.” His eyes swept over us accusingly. “Then Freddy appears, without any of you. He jumped straight up onto the counter to find me. But the owner is at the cafe today for our inspection, so I had to quickly hide him before she called an exterminator or something.”

He looked at us like he expected gratitude.

“Anyway, I fed him bits of cookie until she left. Then I thought I’d take an early break and do you all a solid by bringing him back.”

“And where’s Freddy now?” Rory demanded.

“He’s asleep in my pocket.”